Donna pokes her head into a nearby room when she hears the Doctor’s voice. She finds him sucking the tip of his index finger, glaring at something on the table.
She leans against the doorjamb to watch him, a smile creeping across her face.
It’s been six months since he confessed that he loved her.
It made her confession that she loved him a lot easier to make.
She’s still wondering how he hurt himself when he gets up and stomps out of the room, presumably to get a plaster.
Crossing the room, she stares down at the results of his handiwork, the silent laughter fading into a smile as tears glisten in her eyes.
On the table in front of her are three long-stemmed red roses, the stems of which have been twisted together and are held in place by a gold band, adorned with a sparkling diamond.
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